I am clay
Molded by many hands
Into many shapes
Each person shapes me differently
They don't know what exactly they're doing to me
They think I am the one molding
But I cannot mold myself any longer
You have that power over me
The way you round my edges
And crease my face
That's how you do it
Sometimes I wish you all knew
What exactly was happening
But then I wonder
Would you care enough to stop
Or would you continue
Because you need me
You need to mold someone with your bare hands
To feel superior to something
Even if it kills me
I don't know
Maybe I don't mind anymore
I'm not me anymore
I'm here for you